Push and Pull
by Darveymylove
Summary: Donna and Harvey struggle to pick up the pieces after Faye Richardson turns their newfound happiness on it's head. But when Harvey receives an offer for a potential solution for the pair, all is not as it seems... Established Darvey! Possible season9 plot line.
1. Suspension

Harvey shuts the door of their condo with a heavy sigh, the breath expelling from him aggressively, as though it had been trapped in his lungs all day.

He's met with a silence that resonates, telling him already that this night would be just like all the others since that fateful day over a week ago now.

They'd tried to be careful, ever since their spontaneous, yet long time coming rendezvous at her apartment, they'd been practically inseparable.

_Well, more so than before_.

They saw it as making up for lost time, not seeing the point in hiding things when they'd spent so much time hiding in the past. Not wasting a moment in sharing the news with their friends and colleagues, even if the news wasn't received with the warmest of welcomes from all.

That was before she arrived.

Faye Richardson.

And suddenly they were back in hiding. Donna was already under suspicion for gaining her position in a 'distasteful manner' as Faye had so sweetly put it. That, on top of the fact that theirs was considered to be an 'inappropriate work relationship', meant that they had to keep things quiet and subtle at work.

In addition, the COO was also at the center of Faye's line of inquiry, suspicious of the redhead from the word go.

The pair had coped surprisingly well, until just last week.

An old client, prior to his retirement, and friend of Harvey's had taken ill, the lawyer had received the phone call bearing the news late one Tuesday evening in the partner's kitchen. It hit him harder than he'd have cared to admit, the mug of coffee in his hand slipping through his fingers and landing in the basin of the sink with a loud rattle.

Donna had approached moments later, as though sensing his distress from a far, running a hand up along his spine until it had come to rest on his shoulder, a squeeze, urging him to tell her what happened.

She'd pulled him into a hug, murmuring comforting words in his ear until he began to relax, her closeness easing his tension.

Forgetting themselves, he'd captured her lips in an innocent kiss, gentle and conveying his thanks.

To their horror, the moment had been interrupted by a sharp clearing of a throat.

Faye Richardson's satisfied smirk making both their hearts drop.

She hadn't said a word at first. In fact, she left it hanging, not bringing up the encounter until two days later, allowing them time to squirm, and also lulling them into a false sense of security.

Leading them to believe she'd chosen to let it slide.

Donna had been summoned to her office at the end of that Friday.

Her suspension handed to her with a smile from the wicked blonde, and the promise that sooner rather than later, she hoped it would become permanent.

He remembers that night clearly:

_He'd gone home early to make dinner, leaving her behind at the office to finish up on a few things._

_With the record player humming a soothing dim in the background and the slow sizzle of the cooker, Harvey Specter had felt so at ease, waiting patiently for his girlfriend to return home._

_The sudden and loud slamming of the front door alerted him first to the notion that something wasn't right, the redhead rounding the corner into the living room and storming right past him in the direction of the bedroom._

_"Donna?" he'd tried to grab her attention, following her stride for stride and reaching out to grab her wrist._

_She'd rejected the touch almost instantaneously, jerking her hand away but he kept his hold, "Don't touch me."_

_Her eyes met his for the first time and he saw they were red rimmed, her cheeks smudged with a hue of blackish grey. Fear coiling in his abdomen._

_"What happened?" Any number of scenarios ran through his head, had someone upset her? Hurt her? Worse?_

_"I said, get off me." She pushed harder this time, but he didn't relent, catching her other arm and pulling her closer._

_"Donna, you're scaring me." Harvey whispered, studying her face, partially trying to read it while also searching from any sign of injury, any clue as to what might be wrong._

_"Do you think I care right now?" she yelled and his own frustration hit its peak._

_"Goddamn it talk to me!""Faye suspended me." She cried, her eyes wild and her lip quivering, "It's over, she as good as promised that before long it would become a permanent suspension."_

_"Donna I'm-"_

_"Why the hell is it always me?" she asked._

_"I don't understand-"_

_"We were both caught, both of us in an 'inappropriate work pairing' or whatever bullshit label she gave it, but for some reason I'm the only one who gets punished, I'm the one they call a slut, it's always me!" she broke down crying, and for the first time, he saw how hard it's been for her._

_"Don, I don't know what to say-" he choked, watching her crumble, wanting to pull her into a hug but fearful of how she might take it._

_It took a few moments before her crying subsided enough for her to form a coherent phrase, and when it did, her words surprised him, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean, it's not your fault, I'm just tired –" but she couldn't finish, burying her face in his chest instead, allowing him to soak up the pain in some way._

_"This won't last," he reassured, "I'll fight to get you back, and I know the others will too."_

_He felt her shake her head, "I've worked my whole life to get to where I am now, where I was," the correction harrows her, "and it's taken away from me, based on a story that's not even true, that I spent my whole career trying to avoid making true."_

_The words sting and although he knows she doesn't mean it as a direct insult to him, he feels the impact._

_"I wouldn't change what we have," she catches his eye, needing him to understand that it's not about him, he's just as caught up in this mess as she is, "but sometimes, it's really fucking hard."_

The night had ended with them taking an early night, Donna rejecting the offer for dinner, as had become a habit of hers since her suspension.

They held each other in silence that night, neither sure how to fill the space, what to say, where to go next.

Every day since had been hell without her at work. His panic attacks had returned at full force, at least one hitting a day, her absence at the firm triggering something in him he thought had died a long time ago.

And though the rational thought was always there at the back of his head, telling him he hadn't lost her, she was still his, he couldn't seem to reign the anxiety in.

He couldn't even bring himself to tell her, not wanting to add that weight to her already worn mind. Not even entirely sure how to tell her in the first place.

His timid steps echo loudly in the silence, as though he were stomping, entering the kitchen area and placing his brief case on the counter.

Tugging at the tie around his neck and slipping it off. Most of the lights were out, the fire unlit and the kitchen untouched since that morning, two mugs half full of coffee at opposite ends of the marble.

He moves toward the bedroom, glancing at his watch to find it's approaching ten o'clock, Donna already in bed, with only one lamp lighting the room. He approaches quietly, trying to gauge whether or not she's asleep.

"You're home," She mumbles, turning over to face him as he climbs into bed next to her, over the covers, wrapping an arm around her waist and placing a kiss on her bare shoulder, "It's late, did something happen at work?"

She misses the firm so much, the suspension making her feel a certain sense of disconnect from herself as well as the others. Feeling desperately out of the loop and without purpose, haunting Harvey's condo like a lost cause, rarely venturing outside the four walls.

"No, nothing exciting, just had a lot of paper work to catch up on." He explains, taking a better look at her, hair tied back messily and skin pale and bare, a tiredness resting over her demeanor despite her endless amounts of free time to sleep.

"Did you eat dinner?" he inquires, knowing already she hadn't.

"Yes." She lies through her teeth, diverting her eyes so he doesn't catch it but he's not as stupid as she takes him to be.

"Don't lie to me Don." He warns, and she glares at the tone.

"Don't speak to me like I'm a child, if I'm hungry, I'll eat, but I'm not so –"

"You can't carry on like this, you're going to make yourself sick," he argues, gentle but firm, his concern clear, "Not eating enough, staying in bed all day, but never actually sleeping –"

She doesn't answer because she knows it's true, huffing a sigh and turning over again, wrapping the covers around her tighter.

He knows that's the end of any reasonable conversation he's going to get from her tonight, and suddenly he doesn't feel all that hungry either, as if despite the current divide between them, they're still linked, feeling each other's lows.

He isn't long undressing and slipping under the sheets next to her. Both falling into an uneasy push and pull of broken sleep.

_Why is it, that now they're together, they seem to be falling apart?_

**XXX**

**Heyyyy! I'm back with another (short) multi chapter. This one came as a result of a few different prompts which joined together to create the plot of this story, so thanks to Laura (@frenchdarvey) Cassandra (@followurShadow), Jess (@woahrafferty/takeyourside), And also to an anon on CC, who I wish I could thank personally!**

**Ps, check out these amazing ladies fics, they all write here as well!!**

**More to come soon and as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. **


	2. Sacrifice

Chapter 2: Sacrifice

Donna wears an imprint of her own design into the carpet of the living room as she awaits his return home, pacing up and down, this first tiny spark of hope igniting something in her.

Energy she hadn't felt in over a week bubbling to the surface.

One phone call had given new meaning to her understanding that maybe, everything does happen for a reason, and maybe, _just maybe_ this will be better in the long run.

An old friend from the theatre world had called to check in, having heard word of Donna's suspension. It just so happens that she had an opportunity to offer the redhead, the possibility of a few different roles suited to Donna currently on the market.

She had taken the details of the casting directors without hesitation, feeling a renewed sense of self as she hung up the phone. This could mean the start of something new for her, an original goal left uncomplete, that had always haunted her, finally raising itself as an opportunity once again.

And suddenly, that evening she feels the urge to cook. A low grumble in her stomach and the craving for pasta leading her to the kitchen, a glass of wine in her hand and another empty glass laid out awaiting him.

It's approaching seven when she hears the door open and shut, licking the residue of carbonara sauce from her thumb, she turns, leaning back against the counter with an excited smile, and waiting for him to come around the corner.

When he does, his facial expression is gold. A mixture of shock and confusion but soon a smile dawns on his lips as he catches her eye. She expected as much, knowing that even the sight of her out of bed at this time would catch him off guard, never mind smiling, dressed and of all things _cooking_.

"Hi." She greets.

"Hey," he's not sure where to start, whether to point out the change in attitude or leave it be, he opts for something neutral, innocent, testing the waters "what's all this?"

Donna shrugs, pouring him a glass of red and handing it over silently.

"_I have something to tell you." they both chime._

Their synchronized admission catches the other by surprise and they both grin, "You first," she whispers, returning to the cooker and turning down the heat.

"Why don't we sit down to eat first?" he comes up behind her, hands resting on her hips, his breath tickling the back of her neck, "Then we can talk."

It hadn't been his plan to open up to her about the return of his panic attacks, and it wasn't the news he'd been looking forward to sharing, but there was something about the way she looked at him tonight that gave him a surge of confidence.

That, along with the promising phone call he'd received that evening had left him feeling renewed, ready to talk, ready to move forward, with her by his side.

"I wish you'd told me sooner." She grimaces, standing from her seat at the dining table and discarding her napkin on the plate as he finishes his admission, moving around to where he sat, and easing herself down into his lap, a comforting kiss pressed to the corner of his lips, "I'm sorry you had to go through that again."

"It's not your fault," he replies, tucking the loose strands of red hair behind her ear, "but I shouldn't have kept it from you."

"No, you shouldn't," she gently scolds, patting his chest, "You know you're never going to lose me, it doesn't matter if we're not working together. It's not like before, you have me now, in a much more special way than as just a colleague, I'm only a phone call or a cab ride away, _always."_

Somehow, he'd never thought about it that way and the idea makes him feel sheepish. Always in awe of her ability to shine a light on the simple solutions he can never see, as he stumbled rashly in the dark without her guidance.

"I know that," He smiles softly, already wishing he'd told her sooner, "but I have good news to share as well."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense Specter, what is it?" she prompts.

"A woman named Gwen Striker called me this evening, she previously worked at a firm in California –"

"Rust and Striker?" she asks in disbelief, recalling what she'd heard about the infamous firm, set up and run by two women, and steam rolling the competition in LA.

"Yes, her partner, has chosen to retire early, and Striker is moving to New York to establish a new firm, she called to offer us both a job, you as COO and myself as a named partner." He explains, waiting to gage her reaction."Are you serious?" her jaw drops at the thought, momentarily forgetting the news she'd wished to share with him, the cause of her change of attitude.

"I am, she wants, to quote her, _a strong front on her side as she begins this new endeavor _and as much as I hate to leave our own firm, I think we should take it." He admits, his voice slightly more solemn, "it could be a fresh start for us, a way to rebuild." The faintest hint of a smile tugging at his cheeks.

She pauses, her phone call with Jane from the casting agency re-entering the forefront of her mind, the opportunity that had reinstated her own happiness, the break through she'd been so ecstatic to tell him about. It all seems secondary to the look on his face, and guilt claws at her stomach as she thinks of what he's been through these past couple of weeks. Although she'd never let the admission slip, Donna had always carried the weight of his panic attacks on her shoulders, the thought of her being his trigger made her feel physically ill with remorse.

It's something she hates about herself, that primal need to always please, to do what she thinks will make others happy. Knowing from experience the feeling of boosting another can leave you on a high for quite some time, though when that fire burns out, she's always the one left feeling hollow.

"So what do you think?" he prompts, slightly unnerved by her silence and the calculating look in her eyes, a look that tells him her wheels are turning.

Donna inhales, face softening with an encouraging smile, he's her number one priority now, their relationship has to come first, and working together is what they know, it's how they function.

_**Relationships are all about sacrifice.**_

"I think it sounds perfect." The reply slips before she can give it another thought, and she feels her heart soar at the way his face breaks into a wide grin, although something tugs relentlessly at the back of her mind.

He incases her lips within his and she reciprocates, feeling the reignited passion between them that had grown dim over the last fortnight, and it's enough of a distraction to clear her mind of any doubt.

Harvey pulls away momentarily, cupping her cheek with a warm hand, "I almost forgot, was there something you wanted to tell me?"

The fact that he remembers is so sweet it briefly blindsides her, but his hand slips from her cheek to her shoulder, and then begins a trail down her spine, reminding her of how much she's missed this closeness.

"It can wait, right now," she traces her lips along his jaw, "I'm not interested in doing any more talking."

She doesn't have to say anymore, and it isn't long before they're tumbling into bed, giving it all to each other, as time slips past too quickly.

It's later that evening when they're wrapped up in each other's embrace, her head resting on his chest as she pulls the sheets closer, feeling the steady tempo of his breathing as he dozes off into a well need sleep.

And suddenly her mind begins to wander.

_It's not lying, it's just not telling._

She cringes internally at herself, the sentiment sounding like something her father would say. Why is it that she can push others to be their best, teach them to communicate, overcome their issues, yet she's left wrestling with her own. Beginning to wonder if she'll ever learn to take her own advice.

_She should have told him._

That's the bottom line and deep down she knows he'd be happy for her. That he'd support her no matter what.

It's in her nature to make other happy, bend to their needs and do what's best for them.

And maybe subconsciously she's not ready to let go, although she yearns for that change she fears it all the same. Clinging to the familiarity that is working with him, not wanting to break that rhythm.

_Relationships are all about sacrifice_.

Donna replays the words in her head like a mantra as she eases off to sleep.

_Relationships are all about sacrifice._

And all of a sudden she's feeling like the martyr, by her own hands.

**XXX**

**_A/N: _I want to thank you all for the warm welcome this story has received! I'm trying to delve a little more into the mind of Donna Paulsen, seeing as I personally don't think we see enough of her inner-goings on in the show. So I hope I've done an ok job at portraying that truthfully!**

**These first two chapters are really just setting the scene, the drama will pick up slightly in the coming installments so sit tight ..**

**In response to an error with some dialogue being stuck together, it's not done purposely and I've tried to fix the formatting error this time around so hopefully it doesn't get mess up when it's posted!**

**As always much love and I'll see you with another chapter shortly xx**


	3. Sixth Sense

_Chapter 3: Sixth Sense_

Donna swipes to delete the messages from Jane, hiding them from her lock screen as the car turns the corner, the smooth drive of Harvey's green mustang making for an easy journey. She finds herself stealing an anxious glance at Harvey in the driver's seat, one she knows is irrational. There's no reason for him to ask questions. She places the phone in the glove compartment, wanting it out of sight and out of mind.

"Almost there," he tells her with a smile, and she turns her attention out the window, taking in the throng of beautiful and unique beach houses that line the enclosed estate. The beach visible through the gaps between each villa, giving Donna a surge of excitement.

It's been an age since she's visited the beach, or even had the chance to simply lay in the sun or take a swim. So, when Harvey had received another offer from Gwen Striker, to come and spend the weekend in one of her holiday homes in the Hamptons to finalize the details of their transfer, neither could have dreamt of saying no.

Although both carried a certain amount of guilt with them on their weekend away, and the more they thought about it, the idea of sneaking off out of town to sign themselves with a new firm, seemed unmistakably sinister.

But necessary all the same.

"We have to think about ourselves now," Harvey says, as though following her train of thought, "I know the other's will be doing the same, and as much as it hurts to leave, it's what's best for our future."

_**We have to think about our selves now.**_

Yet she knows she's not truly thinking of herself, doesn't have the guts to own up to what she really wants.

"I know," she nods her agreement, putting the thoughts from her mind and focusing on enjoying this time away, "it's for the best."

They speak as though trying to convince themselves and no one else.

The green mustang pulls into the drive way, gravel crunching beneath the wheels as they come to a stop. Harvey notices the front door opening as he exits and rounds the car, pulling the passenger door back and helping Donna out of her seat.

"Harvey, Donna, it's great to finally meet you in person!"

The pair turn as they're greeted by a man and woman. Gwen Striker is tall, hair chopped to the collarbone and colored an ashy blonde that borders on silver, she's older than the couple, her appearance indicating to the age difference. Her smile is warm and genuine, and Donna finds herself returning the gesture.

Gwen is flanked by a younger man, sallow skin and dark brown hair, he isn't smiling and while Harvey ignores him to go straight to shake Gwen's hand, Donna takes him in, the way he seems to scan both herself and Harvey, a glint in his eye that makes her senses tingle.

"Thank you so much for inviting us out here," Harvey says, placing a hand behind Donna's back and ushering her closer into the group, "We're very appreciative of the offer."

"The pleasure is all mine," Gwen replies, turning her attention to the redhead, "Donna Paulsen, I've heard so much about you, I just knew I needed you on my team here in New York."

"Wow, I'm flattered," Donna gasps, shaking the woman's hand, not used to being the one in spotlight for her work, Harvey usually taking that spot, "I've heard a lot about you too, all good things." She jokes.

Three of the group chuckle while Striker's still unnamed companion remains solemn, his unimpressed expression and stare fixed directly on Donna, catching Harvey's attention.

"And who's this?" Harvey asks, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he attempts to intimidate the younger man.

"Oh, this is my associate and right-hand man, Adam Mal." Gwen explains, gesturing at Adam as he paints a superficial smile on his face, shaking Donna's hand first, then Harvey's.

"You always let your boss do the talking for you?" Harvey quips, a remark that was meant to break the ice, however from the way his eyes darken Donna can sense it didn't have the desired effect, and she doesn't like the road this is headed down.

"You say that like Jessica Pearson didn't keep you on a tight lease," she nudges her boyfriend, with a playful smirk and he gives a sincere laugh nodding his agreement, and Donna breathes a sigh of relief, feeling the tension defuse.

"Why don't we head inside?" Gwen offers, her and Donna climbing the marble steps as Harvey returns to the car to grab their bags, Adam in tow at the request of his boss.

The younger man doesn't say a word, shooting Harvey the occasional dirty look and slinging a bag over his shoulder carelessly.

"You seem well balanced," Harvey mumbles, earning an irritated yet slightly confused glance from his company, "A chip on both shoulders." He says with a dry laugh, rolling his eyes as he takes the bag from Adam's hands, and carries them to the front door without assistance.

The interior of the home is just as jaw dropping as the outside, one story, open plan living area with high ceilings, and a paneling of glass at the back of the room which looks out on a pool and sea view. There's an atmosphere of peace and calm within these walls that both Donna and Harvey find welcoming, their eyes catching each other as a grin blossoms on both their faces.

"I take it you like the place?" Gwen smirks proudly at their reaction, the question rhetorical if the awe-struck looks on their face are any indication.

"Oh, we haven't had a holiday in years – and this, well, it's a dream come true," Harvey answers, "How many of these did you say you own?" he inquires, considering purchasing one on the spot.

"My wife and I design and rent them, we have a few clusters all over the country, she's an architect, and I've just got an eye for these things." She quips, and Donna decides that her and Gwen may just be cut from the same cloth.

"I'm very particular myself," Donna adds, with an approving nod, "but this place is wonderful, so peaceful-"

"We have all of the homes sound-proofed," she explains, "our security systems are state of the art, only a choice few know the ins and outs of how to operate them and the glass we use for our windows is better than bullet proof, so not only is it secleuse, it's safe."

"So, should we get down to business?" Harvey asks, eager to get things moving.

"Oh, no, not yet," Gwen shakes her head with a smile, "why don't you both enjoy the day, take some time to unwind and we'll meet and discuss our endeavour over Sunday lunch tomorrow?"

"That sounds like a brilliant idea," Donna complies, itching to get into her swimsuit and out into the pool, "we could both do with the rest." She says, slipping her hand into Harvey's, though subconsciously she may just be trying to delay this as long as possible.

"Excellent," the older women replies, "I have to return to the city for a meeting this evening, but Adam will be staying in the villa next door, so should you need anything, his number is on the fridge, as is mine."

Donna flickers her gaze in the direction of the dark-haired associate, wearing a look on his face like an unimpressed teenager left to babysit.

Adam doesn't put a lot of faith in her when it comes to this new endeavor, and though she likes Gwen, something about this man makes her sixth sense tingle. He looks her way as though catching on to her thoughts and she quickly diverts her eyes, leaning further into Harvey, as they see Gwen and her shadow of an associate to the door.

The day passes in a haze of bliss, spent doing a large variety of nothing, but it's all they've been needing. Lounging by the pool, a walk on the beach, chatting about everything and nothing at all.

It's approaching dinner time and they're still sprawled out on one of the out-door double cushioned sunbeds, her head resting on his chest as she reads her book, his eyes fluttering open and closed every few minutes as the temptation to doze off pulls at him.

Donna closes her book, coming to the end of a chapter and yawning with a nice laziness, her chin tilting up so she's looking at his face, eyes closed, her cheek still resting against his ribs. Her hand goes to his forehead, finger trailing a path from his hairline down along his nose and over his lips, thinking him asleep until she feels a kiss to her finger.

"Hey sleepy," she murmurs, letting her hand trace his jaw as it falls to his shoulder, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Yes, you did," he smirks knowingly, leaning down to place a kiss at her temple, "I know that look, you want attention."

"Guilty as charged," she replies, sitting up to straddle him, "And I deserve it." Her lips brushing his teasingly.

"That you do." He replies, and it's barely above a whisper, his mouth mirroring hers as they kiss, hands landing on her waist and pulling her closer.

When out of the quiet, he hears a low grumble, followed by a giggle from the red head.

"Oops." She sniggers.

"Someone's hungry, huh?" he shakes his head, biting his lip and raising his eyebrows, amused.

"_Starving_, actually."

"Well we can order in, and work up even more of an appetite while we wait…" he captures her lips again, until the sound of the doorbell rings through the villa, echoing out through the open back door.

"Did I mention I may have already placed an order about half an hour ago?" She raises an eyebrow, lifting herself from her perch in his lap and leaving him wanting more as she heads back inside.

"You're a tease Donna Paulsen." He shakes his head in disapproval.

"My needs are very important," she quips in feigned defensiveness, wrapping her cover up around her, "and right now I need some Thai curry.""What about my needs?" he retorts, following her into the living area and causing her to turn back to him.

She takes a step closer, and then another, until they're less than an inch apart, her breath tickling his jaw as she reaches up on her tippy toes, "Your needs will be more than taken care of, _after we eat._"

It was just after their post-dinner fun when the pair realized that they were seriously lacking in supplies at their holiday home, not so much as a scrap of snack food or even a bottle of wine to be found. Harvey reluctantly opting to take the car to a shop he had spotted about fifteen minutes back on their way here, to stock up on a few things for the weekend. Leaving Donna behind, wrapped up in the crisp white bedsheets as he headed out, promising not to be long.

The redhead decided to take the opportunity to shower, emerging after ten minutes and pulling on a light night dress and bathrobe, the summer heat not carrying through into the evening.

She's brushing her hair when a noise resonates through the open door of their bedroom, surprised but delighted that Harvey had arrived home so quickly, she rises from her perch at the vanity table, making her way down the hall way and into the living area.

"That was quick-" she stops short as her eyes land on an unexpected face, pausing his actions, he seemed to be looking at something behind the storage unit, her brow furrowing in confusion, "Can I help you?" she asks, not disguising her disapproval at his presence.

Adam looks her up and down, a look of disregard and indifference gracing his features, "No, thank you." He takes a step to the right, opening a drawer and riffling through some files in a chest of drawers by the living room desk, the air of cheek in his tone catching Donna off guard.

"I meant, what are you doing here?" She asks, approaching the younger man and snapping the drawer closed, causing his eyes to jump to hers, straightening his posture, she's not in the least bit concerned with its contents, more interested in putting this man in his place. Her eyes trail over his should to the control panel on the wall, the one which controls the heating, lighting, security system and _god knows what else._

"Not that it's any of your business," his tone sour and crude, "but Gwen sent me a text asking me to come over here to get some files for her.""Does Gwen make a habit of keeping important business files in her rented holiday homes?" she replies sweetly, not missing a beat and not falling for his bullshit.

"Why don't you just keep your nose out of it." He answers, turning on his heel and heading for the door, but the response doesn't pacify her.

"Sorry but what exactly is your problem?" she calls after him, taking a few steps into the center of the room and crossing her arms, "What's with the constant attitude.?"The remark catches his attention and he stops short in his tracks, turning back to face her and wearing the closest thing to a smile she's seen from him since the moment they met.

"I'm so glad you asked, because I've been wanting to get it off my chest since the moment you and your boyfriend's name first crossed my path." She sees a change in him as he approaches again, and something compels her to take a step back, anchoring herself at the kitchen island and steeling herself against his spiteful attitude.

"Listen Adam, until today, neither myself nor Harvey had even met you, so I don't see what we possibly could have done to –""I don't want to hear it, I've spent my whole career doing Gwen Striker's dirty work and what do I get in return? Passed over for some washed up lawyer who should have been disbarred years ago and his secretary girlfriend! _**I**_ should be made named partner."

Donna's face stiffens at the admission, somewhat offended by the remark but now he has his cards on the table, which is exactly what she wanted. She's just about done entertaining this kid's ego, and decides to put an end to the conversation before it escalates further.

"Listen, Adam, despite how you feel, the fact of the matter is that Harvey and I are coming to work with you, whether you like it or not. So, I hate to break it to you, but you're going to have to get used to the idea." She states plainly, shaking her head with a tight smile.

The associate takes a step closer, an invasion of her personal space that she recognizes as a threat, but stays put nonetheless, standing her ground and staring him down.

"No," he mumbles, and there's a hitch to his tone that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, "No, I'm not." He finishes with a smirk, stepping away from her and heading towards the door. Her skin crawling with paranoia as she tries to decipher his comment, and if his words weren't enough of a threat, the look he shoots her before the front door swings closed after him was.

**Xxx**

**Heyyyy! Sorry for the wait on this one, I've been busy and then we were hit with so much new content that I didn't know how to function never mind write!**

**Hope this update makes up for it! Let me know what you think... what's Adam up to? **


	4. Secure

Chapter 4: Secure

The headlights of the mustang illuminate the quiet road as he takes the last turn back to their holiday home. A brown paper bag with two bottles of red wine and a few nibbles his only company, resting in the passenger's seat. He's eager to get back to her, not willing to surrender a single second of this time away together, memories of the hour or two they'd spent tangled up in bed after dinner dance behind his eyes and a wave of goosebumps cover his skin.

He's said it before, over and over, how once they took the plunge, it had felt like they'd always been together, so while their relationship has only been official for a short while, he feels a deeper connection. The type of link you expect to see in a married couple. It elates him daily, he's always felt close to her, but at the same time just out of reach, but _she's here now_, as she once said to him, and she's not going anywhere.

Harvey had expected almost, to feel a new sense of anxiety in this relationship, one which stemmed from his long present abandonment issues, considering Donna had always been the focal point of his fears.

But strangely he doesn't, a sense of security building stronger inside him with every glance, every touch, every kiss. It's a type of inner peace he hasn't felt in a long time, but that's just the wonder of her.

His stream of consciousness follows the flow of her, until, before long, he's pulling into the drive way, noticing the flicker of the fireplace through the opaque window blinds. He's reaching for the shopping bag when suddenly a ringing catches him by surprise, a vibration buzzing from within the dashboard, prompting him to open the glove compartment.

Donna's phone tumbles out, screen lit up and ringtone piercing the silence before it shuts off abruptly. He presumes she must have left it behind earlier and reaches down to retrieve it from the ground, the screen relighting at the same moment, several text messages appearing, all from the same contact, a woman labelled _Jane – casting._

The fact that he doesn't recognize the name is what draws him in to read the messages, plenty of texts demanding that Donna take her call:

_**Opportunities like this don't come around often.**_

_**This could be big.**_

_**It's always been your dream Donna, this is your chance!**_

Harvey finds himself frowning at the words, confused as to the context when suddenly the phone begins to buzz again, and without thinking he's swiping to answer the call.

The woman on the other end of the phone begins rambling before Harvey can even draw a breath, "Donna! Thank God you finally answered, I've been trying to keep a few auditions on hold for you but if you don't give me an answer soon, I won't be able to anymore, there's one role in particular that is absolutely to die for –"

"Sorry, this is Harvey Specter, her boyfriend, she left her phone in my car." He explains.

"Oh, Mr. Specter! I've heard plenty about you, it's nice to –kind of- meet you, you must be so excited for Donna." She exclaims down the phone.

"Yeah, of course, what –" he plays along, not wanting to seem out of the loop.

"Well when I heard she'd been suspended I was heartbroken for her, but then all these perfect and _oh so Donna_ roles kept crossing my desk and I just took it as a sign! When I spoke to her she seemed so eager, I'm so delighted she's decided to return to the theatre world."

His lips part, jaw falling slack, a million thoughts race through his mind, _why would she hide this from him? Why would she come out here with him, to meet Gwen if she had no intention of working with them?_

Anger and hurt worm their way into his chest, as he realizes that Jane is still babbling.

"She's just made for the stage, you must be very proud."

The truth is he is, he always has been proud of her acting abilities, God knows she's fooled him with them more than once or twice. He'd love to see her return to the stage, deep down, he knows he wants that for her as much as she does, but resentment at her secret keeping and an old manifestation of contempt at the thought of them not working side by side anymore clouds his judgement and he finds himself hanging up the phone with an abrupt goodbye.

He trudges up the stairway that leads to the front door, brown bag tucked under his arm as he fumbles with the lock, shutting the door with a loud bang, not quite a slam, but enough to make his presence known.

"Hey," he hears as he enters the kitchen and living area, Donna perched on the couch and smiling up at him, though he thinks he see her expression falter, as though she's already managed to read his mind, "Thank God you're back, you won't believe it but that associate of Gwen's was lurking -"

He drops the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter with an abruptness that startles her, stopping short as she frowns at his turned back.

"Harvey, is everything alright?" Genuine concern evident in her voice.

He reaches into his pocket, retrieving her phone and holding it in the air as he turns slowly to face her, a sort of quiet frustration radiating from him.

"Just got off the phone with your friend Jane," he says with indifference, as though there were nothing wrong, watching as he face falls in realization, "when were you going to tell me that you have no intention of moving to Striker's firm with me?"

She takes a deep breath, instantly regretting not telling him about the opportunity she'd been offered the moment she'd found out, "Harvey, this is a misunderstanding, let me explain."

"You know what, I don't want to hear it." He shakes his head, never raising his voice, keeping it low, and it almost hits harder that way, as she hears the hurt laced in his tone, "Did you think I wouldn't support you? Is that what this is about? Because you know I would-"

"No, no it's not that," she pleads with him, "the offer came along the same day as you were contacted by Striker, I was conflicted, I - I didn't know what I wanted."

"But you do now?"

"What?" She breathes.

"You said you 'didn't know' which implies that now you've made your choice." She can't seem to decipher the tone of his voice, leaving her flustered, but faced with telling the truth nonetheless.

"I want to take the acting job, I've wanted to tell you but -"

"Jesus Christ Donna you don't keep things from me!" He yells defensively.

"I thought you said you'd support me." She spits back.

"Yeah, well that was before you decided to lie and make a fool of me, how is this going to look to Gwen? We've wasted her time."

"Harvey this is what I wanted to tell you, but you won't Goddamn Listen!" She huffs exasperated, "I don't think _either_ of us should be going there, we don't know her well enough, and we're about to sign our careers away into her hands, her associate is already out to get us, and if that doesn't speak volumes to -"

"Bullshit Donna, you're only saying all of this because you don't want to go." He scoffs.

"I wouldn't do that and you know it," he does, but he's blinded by his anger at her, "I have a bad feeling about this -"

"So I'm supposed to make career choices now based off your feelings?" He asks mockingly.

Her eyes cold as she replies, "It's always paid off for you before."

He knows she's right, the comment was stupid, her gut feeling having saved their asses more than once or twice.

"But even if you won't take my advice, nothing's stopping you going to work there without me."

The words hit like a ton of bricks, knocking the air from his chest, his old fears rising again and threatening to overwhelm him, '_without her'_. It's always daunted him, the fact that one day he may be without her, but since they'd gotten together the fear had diminished. But now, it seemed to return tenfold.

He shakes his head, pushing off the counter and heading back in the direction of the door, he can hear her fast paced footsteps following him, but he doesn't stop.

"Where are you going?" She asks and he can hear the waver in her voice as he pulls the door open, making him feel a stab of guilt in his abdomen.

"Out." He grumbles.

"Harvey, please."

But the echo of the door slamming is the only response she receives.

XXX

**Hi! I'm back, sorry for the wait but I've had terrible writers block on top of being abroad on holiday. I hope this chapter was up to standard!**

**More to come...**


	5. Smoke

Chapter 5: Smoke.

Donna finds herself staring down an empty bottle of wine with eyes that can't quite focus. Gripping the green glass with an air that would suggest by squeezing hard enough she could will the alcohol to seep from her veins back into the confines of the container, which she had drained far too quickly.

She rubs a hand across her face, trying to center her thoughts, the skin of her cheeks slightly callous as a result of streams of dried in tear tracks. She can't seem to drag her mind's eye away from the memory of his face as he left, so much hurt and anger trapped there, it had been like a stab in the gut.

Though one she feels she deserved.

She feels an irrational need to punish herself, to even the score and maybe that's why she drank an entire bottle of cheap gas station red without using a glass. Feeling it swirl sickeningly in her stomach, buzzing in her brain, but doing nothing to numb the guilt.

_Good_, she thinks.

_She deserves to feel guilty_.

Maybe she's being too hard on herself, but she can't see it that way. Her actions hurt him, they'd spent so long establishing this relationship of trust, this nature of sharing, and yet, while she always seemed the more emotionally intelligent, it had been her who had fallen at the first hurdle, dragging him back along with her.

She reaches for her phone, her movements clumsy, reality distorted and her emotions heightened by her drunken state. Her thumb hits the call button for the fifth time that night, her breath catching in her throat at the unmistakable sound of his voicemail, and before she can properly register the thought she's flinging the offending phone across the room, straight at the glass paneling, watching as it bounces off the bullet proof window and shatters on the floor.

Panting, she slowly drags herself to her feet, a strange contrast of guilt for her actions and anger at his own reaction making her head spin, along with the wine of course.

Her vision is blurry, the room unfolding in a kaleidoscope of colors and she can't remember the last time she was this helplessly drunk. Gripping the back of the couch before moving to press a hand against the wall for support as she makes her way through the living room. Donna fills her lungs through her nose, in what was an attempt at a steadying breath, however instead, a strange smell alerts her senses, something so familiar yet incredibly foreign. It seems to follow her as she navigates towards the security control panel, distracting as she tries but fails to remember the instructions given earlier that day on how to set up the alarm system.

She clicks on something called "Bedtime Security Mode", before continuing on her stumbling journey back towards the bedroom, that smell lingering even after she'd shut the door.

She has no more time to contemplate it as she collapses into bed, falling into an alcohol induced heavy slumber.

——————————

Harvey's not sure how long he's spent wandering the streets of this nameless village, the cold starting to get in on him as he leans back on a nearby wall. He can't stop picturing her face as he left her behind. A spike of guilt hitting him only to be over turned every time by a rush of hurt and betrayal. It's always been something that bothered him, when she keeps things hidden from him, when she isn't honest.

Even though he's still hurting, slowly but surely her reasoning begins to dawn on him in a new light, knowing the ball is in his court now, he can choose how they move forward from this. With every step through the deserted streets he finds his own anger defusing. She may have been in the wrong to begin with, but now he knows he also needs to apologize, he should have shown his support, shown the truth of how happy he was for her, how much he'd love to see her back on the stage.

He's turning on his heel, ready to head back to the car and home to her when his phone rings, Louis' name illuminating the screen. He swipes to answer, holding the phone to his ear.

"Listen, Louis whatever it is now's not the time-"

"I know, you're on vacation, but this couldn't wait," he begins, that tremble of excitement in his voice that Harvey recognizes, "Is Donna there with you, I tried getting through to her?"

"No, she's – I'm just out at the moment, I had to go to the gas station," he stumbles over the lie, getting impatient now, "What is it Louis?"

"Faye is leaving, the bar has agreed to remove her as Special Master, we're in the clear!" he all but yells the end of his sentence.

"Holy shit," Harvey breathes, sitting down into the Mustang, "So does that mean -?"

"Yes, Donna's suspension is revoked, it's all over." He confirms.

The news fills him with a sense of conflict, because it casts another choice into the ring, between Striker, Donna's acting career and their own firm, he's not sure which way to look, but he swears to himself that whatever decision they take, he'll go to the ends of the earth to make sure that Donna still gets to perform, that much is non-negotiable.

Louis is still rambling as Harvey pulls himself back to reality, starting up the car, "Listen Louis, I have to go, I'm driving, but this is great news, I can't wait to tell Don – wait did you say she didn't pick up when you called?" Recalling the comment.

"Yeah, it's strange, I must have rang her five or six times, but the line kept going dead… I'm sure she's just asleep or maybe her phone's out of battery?" he suggests, rationalizing her unusual behavior, it'd be unlike Donna not to answer the phone, especially when someone like Louis was calling.

Taking a glance at the dashboard, the time reads eleven-thirty, which, based on his knowledge of his girlfriend's habits, seems too early for her to have gone to bed.

"I'm sure you're right Louis," he replies, as though maybe by voicing it he can convince himself, a nervous tension settling in his chest, "I'll give you a call in the morning, goodnight."

He hangs up and drives off from his parking spot, accelerating down the empty road, well aware that he's surpassing the speed limit. He's not sure if it's down to the excitement of this news, his eagerness to get home and make things right, or this inexplicable surge of anxiety that urges him to get back to her faster.

A million different scenarios whirling in his mind's eye as to why she didn't answer the phone, his memory returning to what she'd said about that associate, _Adam? Was that his name?_ Something not sitting right with him about the way he'd let himself into their villa. All of this seeming incredibly coincidental all of a sudden.

——————————

She feels a tickling in her chest, her breathing shallow as though a sheet were placed over her mouth and nose, forcing her to work harder to pull in oxygen. Her head feels like a ton weight, somehow heavier than it did when she'd collapsed into bed, her eyes still shut as though plastered together.

Donna manages to pry her eyes open, her face turned to the side as she lies sprawled out on her stomach. Only cracking them open, she snaps them shut again as they suddenly sting unbearably, a sharp intake of breath accompanying the reaction and causing her to cough harshly.

_That smell._

It hits her again only paired with something far more familiar. Something that makes her stomach lurch.

_Smoke_.

Her eyes open again, this time ignoring the sharp sting, as she tries to get her bearings. The room is coated in a mass of dark grey and she struggles to pull herself from the bed, her breathing worsening and her coughing intensifying from the effort.

Donna can barely see two feet in front of her, stumbling towards the bedroom door as the smoke engulfs her.

A dull throbbing in her head throws her off balance, they'd been told about this at one of those mandatory fire safety courses at work, warned about the effects of smoke inhalation on the body, and she checks every box in her mind.

_Coughing, shortness of breath, dizziness, impaired vision. _And her mild fear rises to full blown panic as an orange-red glow fills the hallway once the door's been opened, heat hitting her skin. She drops to her hands and knees, suddenly remembering that smoke rises and the lower she can stay to the ground the better for her breathing.

Her body aches from coughing as she crawls towards the living area, the heart of the blaze, it hadn't spread far yet but that was changing fast, the flames clinging to everything, from the material of the carpet to the ceiling, the heat overwhelming her further.

She tries to make it to the front door, cautiously crawling forward when a loud screaming creak is emitted from the ceiling, just about managing to launch herself backwards as one of the decorative beams collapses, she finds herself imitating the shriek of the wooden as it hits the ground, causing an explosion of flames and ash that almost blinds her, blocking her path completely.

Donna drags herself back towards the glass paneling that leads to the back garden, leaning against the glass she pulls herself upright, searching blindly for the handle of the sliding door. She gasps out a cry of relief when she locates it, pulling it back with all her might, but finding it locked in place, a robotic voice rings out above her, one which belongs to the smart home security system, "Please disable bedtime safety mode, in order to unlock doors and windows."

She screams in frustration as she pulls desperately at the handle, listening to that automated voice over and over again, her attempts futile. An animal instinct fuels her, panic causing her to shake as she pounds on the shatter and sound proof glass, shouting for help, forgetting all logic as her body begins to shut down.

She sinks to her knees, head pressed against the glass as she chokes and coughs between cries, her eyes snap up as she thinks she catches sight of a silhouette, surging forward to bang on the glass yet again, but the figure in the distance doesn't move, and she begins to wonder if it may just be her own imagination, a hallucination, watching as the shadow disappears.

Her mind casts to Harvey as she gives in, hearing his voice in her head, telling her to keep fighting. But she can't.

"I'm sorry." She rasps, though there's no one there to hear.

The only response the roar of the fire behind her, like a menacing, all consuming threat.

——————

**Hey!! I told you this was going to get more dramatic :) big shout out to Jess (woahrafferty/takeyourside) for proof reading this for me. And this chapter goes out to Cassandra (followUrShadow) for prompting me on this one!**

**More to come soon... let me know your thoughts x**


	6. Safety

Push and Pull 6: Safety

Harvey finds himself engulfed by menacing sounds as he squeals to a halt up outside their holiday home, instinct driving him to abandon the car.

The threating roar of the fire, devouring the house from the inside out.

The wail of sirens in the distance.

The clatter of his footfall as he surges in the direction of the flames.

The shouts of neighbours on the street as they plead with him to stay back.

The hammer of his heart in his chest.

But most of all, a sound he's not quite sure is real seems to ring the loudest.

A high-pitched scream.

_Donna_.

He takes the door out in a matter of seconds, each thrust of his shoulder against the singed, weakened wood urging him to hit harder.

It's a mass of blinding orange and red that he's met with when he stumbles into the burning home, parts of the ceiling collapsed, creating a treacherous obstacle course for him to navigate as he scans the through the smoky curtain for any trace of her.

With a catch of his breath his eyes land on her, slumped against the sliding glass door at the back of the room. He doesn't think twice before lurching in her direction, trying to weave his way through the blaze to get her, his lungs burning as he suppresses the urge to cough.

"Donna!" He calls over the rumble of the fire, watching her for a response as he gets nearer, "Hey!" he shouts again.

She doesn't move, her body still as she half sits, half lies like a rag doll in that defeated position. He hisses a flame licks at his bare forearm, but it doesn't deter him from his mission. Finally reaching her and thanking whatever God would listen that the worst of the blaze had somehow avoided her until now.

Her skin is hot to the touch, sweat and ash layered over every inch of her body, he listens for breath, weak pathetic gasps of air the only thing keep her alive. "Donna." He prompts again, already beginning to hoist her up so he can lift her, his own body beginning to lose strength under the heat and the smoke.

It almost frightens him when she splutters and coughs, her eyes barely opening as she tries to force herself into consciousness, her attempt to speak comes out as a strained wheeze, followed by another harsh coughing fit, and he suddenly lands back in reality, not wasting another second in hoisting her over his shoulder and navigating his way back to the front door as quickly as possible. The promise of blue lights flashing in the distance giving him a new burst of motivation to surge forward.

The crisp night air is a shock to both their systems as they fall out into the freshness of the night, gasping as they learn to breathe again. He reaches the grass before his legs give way, the smoke inhalation finally rendering him too weak to walk, as they both tumble slowly to the ground. He's heaving in a few laboured breaths, the cool dew of the grass soaking through the back of his shirt and relieving the heat that flushed his skin. She's lying next to him, and in the dim moonlight he sees her more clearly, small burns where sparks made contact with flesh scatter across her bare arms like freckles, a thick layer of ash and grime tainting her complexion from head to toe, and dying her usually striking hair, a dull greyish brown.

He drags himself toward her, ignoring the flashing of blue and red in the background, taking on a state of tunnel vision that could only be triggered by her. Carefully, he turns her to lie on her back, his fingers fumbling for a pulse as he tilts her chin back, listening and feeling for breath, trying to cast his mind back to those mandatory first aid classes Jessica had made all the staff take years ago, and cursing himself for how he grumbled and complained the whole way through instead of paying more attention.

"30:2." He mumbles under his breath as the life-saving ratio comes back to him, shaking with the anticipation of having to actually perform it.

When he can't feel her breath against his ear, he feels his heart hammer so fast he fears he might be needing first aid himself before long. But with as much composure as he can muster he begins a steady pump to her chest, keeping count breathlessly as he wills her back to life, feeling as though with every passing compression she's slipping farther from him when she should be coming closer, her face so pale beneath the sheet of grey.

"Twenty-nine, thirty –" he's tilting her head back again, opening her airways and breathing air into her lungs as though it's second nature, the instinct to protect her never so dominant.

Repeating the process, he begins to hear urgent voices approaching, "_Come on,_" he pleads with her lifeless form as he bends to her mouth again, watching her chest rise under his control, and before he can begin compressions again, she's retching loudly, head lolling to the side as she comes into a state of semi-consciousness.

"Thank God, Donna…" he gasps out the cry, assisting her onto her side as she coughs and heaves up a blackish substance that had been blocking her airways, before flopping down into his lap defeatedly, her eyes glazed over as she fights to keep them open, barely aware of her surroundings, or who is there holding her until she hears his voice again.

"You're okay, you're safe… you're okay…" he repeats the sentiment over and over, cradling her and rocking back and forth, as much as a comfort to himself as to her, feeling her body move as she wheezes in weak breaths seems to ground him in the reality that she's alive and here with him – because of him.

It's only a few short moments before they're surrounded by emergency services, though it feels like a lifetime, stuck in a never ending cycle of gratitude that she's okay. He doesn't fight the paramedics when they arrive, allowing them access to her, only protesting when they try to assist him, begging them to focus on her only.

He doesn't remember much about the ride in the ambulance, suffering something akin to a panic attack once they arrived at the hospital which the staff put down to shock as the cause, as the adrenaline is flushed from his veins.

A gentle, male nurse coaxes him through it, sitting him down in one of the armchairs and placing a ventilator over his mouth, but what really calms him is the sight of Donna lying in a bed across the room, and while she looks frighteningly ill, the steady beep of her monitor and the shallow rise and fall of her chest assures him that she's alright, and the tempo lulls him into a deep sleep at last.

The next week passes so slowly it's almost unbearable. Donna having been placed in an induced temporary coma, the hospital staff deeming it the best route to recovery for her. And while he understands the logic in their method, their reassurances don't prevent him from growing complacent as he awaits her return to consciousness.

A lot had happened in that everlasting week, Harvey had promptly declined the offer to work with Gwen Striker, knowing it was the root and stem of why he had walked out in the first place, leaving her alone to _**almost**_ suffer a terrible fate. The comments Donna had made about her associate also played heavily on his mind as the hours bled into days. He had also spent some amount of time mulling over the verdict from the fire department, which stated the fire had been caused by a flawed setting in the smart home control panel, one which caused the fire place to release gas into the open.

Both Donna's family, his own mother and their colleagues had been to visit at intervals since that night, taking turns to sit by her side, keeping her company, assured by some fairy tale that she knew they were there.

They all came and went, except Harvey, who rarely saw the light of day for the sake of staying near to her.

He'd walked away from her once, and he wasn't about to do so again.

It was late on a Sunday evening in the hospital room, almost a week since the incident, when Harvey sat at the windowsill turned makeshift desk at the far corner of her room, combing through the reports and tests carried out by the police and fire department. Something had been nagging at him since he'd first received the conclusion of the cause of the fire, a mechanical trip just not seeming necessary, knowing all he does about Gwen and her partner, their reputation untarnished – until now.

Harvey searched through the manila pages, desperately grasping at straws for answers, for something that made sense, but he was drawing a blank every time. Beginning to feel as though, he was missing the centre piece of the puzzle, the one that would make it all clear.

"I don't know where to look next Donna," he spoke aloud to her unconscious form as she lay peacefully among the crisp white hospital bedsheets, he'd found himself speaking to her more regularly as the days dragged past, the gesture acting as a small comfort to him, wondering often if she ever heard him, "Maybe it was just an accident, it just doesn't sit right with me, you know?"

He smiles softly to himself imagining how she might respond, knowing she'd understand his innate urge to find a reason, something or someone he could take action against.

'_You've always had a dramatic flare for revenge_.'

She'd once said, with not a trace of judgement, just a faint sort of amusement and admiration for his protective instinct.

"I know you'd probably find the answer in a split second." He chuckles solemnly, suddenly overcome with a heavy sadness as reality washed over him in a harsh wave, burying his head back in the paperwork to drown out the pain.

When something catches his attention.

A sound.

So small he might have missed it were it not for the silence of the room, save for the beeping monitors.

His head snaps up as he hears it again – a whisper of sorts.

Slowly, he turns to face her, holding his breath, afraid if he makes a sound he might miss it again.

"_H – r – ve_"

It's her.

There's no mistaking it.

Her lips parting ever so slightly as she forms the sounds of his name.

He's at her side in a heartbeat, clutching her hand to let her know he's there, not daring to speak, willing her to say more.

"Ah – d - m, sis – tem, fy – er." She sounds, her voice rasping, her eyelashes fluttering as she attempts to open her heavy eyes, failing miserably.

"What?" he breathes, trying desperately to make sense of her broken words.

"H-he, w – sss, th – er." Donna whispers again, "It w- hmm." She can feel herself falling again, that barely there wisp of consciousness slipping away from her too quickly.

"Who was there?" he pleads with her, "Can you open your eyes Donna?"

"Ah – dm," she tries again, using her last ounce of energy to lightly hold his hand, before she's dropping into darkness again.

He feels her hand go limp after the slight squeeze, immediately pressing the call button, his mind racing with what she'd just said.

Reaching for a pen and paper he begins to scribble out the sounds she'd managed to form, trying to piece together meaning, to decode the message.

_He was there. It was him._

Two phrases he's certain she mouthed.

_System, Fire._

Two words which affirm to him that she'd heard him talking aloud, asking her questions.

That last word leaving him stumped, wracking his brain for the answer, when just as the door opens, a nurse hurrying forward, the name she'd tried so desperately to spell out to him falls from his lips as realisation strikes.

"Adam."

———

**A/n: hi everyone! I'm so so sorry for the long wait on their update, University has completely take over my life and I barely get a spare second for writing unfortunately.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! More too come as soon as possible x**


	7. Small Smile

Chapter 7: Small Smile

It's a week later before she's fully lucid, and he's there when she finally wakes. At first he pays barely any heed to the small movements of her shoulders, or the twitching in her face, having witnessed her stirring numerous times over the past seven days, each time ending in disappointment as she fails to break through, settling back into a restless unconsciousness.

He'd spoken to her constantly, reassuring her that he was there, that he was looking after things, but most importantly, that he was sorry.

He's pouring over a copy of the police's interrogation of Adam, having gathered enough evidence to have him arrested in record time following Donna's shaky accusation. Luckily, all CCTV footage as well as all interactions with the smart home systems were logged at a remote data base. He had made the mistake of using the owner's login rather than the guest's, something only Gwen and her closest staff would have access too. That linked with the fact that the gas and fire place controls had been tampered with was enough to condemn the young associate.

The case looks promising, and he's just about to retire from windowsill turned make shift desk when he hears her, "Harv-?"

He freezes, half standing, his back still turned to her, willing himself not to indulge in the idea that the sound he'd heard was any more than a figment of his imagination, his overtired mind playing tricks on him constantly.

But then again, "H-hey." It's weak, barely above a whisper, but it's her.

"Donna?" he turns slowly, as though any fast movements might cause her to slip away from him again. But she doesn't falter, eyes open, head turned meekly in his direction, her cheeks bearing the slightest tint of colour, and finally, what drives hime forward: her hand out stretched.

He's by her side in a heartbeat, clutching her hand, feeling the relieving warmth there as she gazes up at him, a small smile playing on her pale lips.

"Donna I-"

"Ah- don't," she stops him, having anticipated the inevitable apology, "I don't want to hear it… I wouldn't be here without you so no more apologies."

Her voice is hoarse, but she somehow still manages that tone of command she's known for and he can't resist the smirk pulling at his cheeks, "Good to see your intuition isn't broken then."

"Much to your dismay I'm sure." She jests in response, eliciting a soft laugh from them both, "Don't worry Harvey, nothing's ever going to keep me out of your head."

"I'm going to have to ask you to start paying rent."

Her laugh fills the bleak space they'd inhabited for the past week, brightening it somewhat, before a nasty cough catches in her throat, her lungs still weak from smoke inhalation. She wheezes harshly, clutching at her chest as she gasps for relief. Harvey helps her sit forward, having watched the nurses assist her through past fits in her sleep, he rubs her back gently, reaching for the bowl by the bed and holding it for her as she clears her airways.

When she lies back, she's much more deflated, the initial buzz of seeing him having worn off, reality setting in.

"So, what's the verdict? How bad was it?" she questions, her voice almost unrecognisable post coughing, her brow creased with worry.

He swallows roughly, having relived the night he'd found her over and over in his mind, retelling now seeming like and insurmountable task. He stumbles over his words as he explains the events to her, pausing briefly to gather himself at the thought of how he'd discovered her, not breathing, grasping at life. He lists off her diagnosis, doing his best to explain. Although he's hopeful that now she's conscious, it shouldn't be long before he's discharged.

She's quiet for a moment, soaking in the details, her own memories of that night reignited in her mind from his retelling, but there's still one burning question left unanswered.

"What about him?"

"In custody," she lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding at his reply, feeling a sudden rush of ease, "Looks like you were right, I should have listened to you." He hangs his head slightly, and she can feel the guilt radiating from his skin.

"Hey, don't do that, don't blame yourself." She urges him, "You wouldn't be you if you didn't listen to me, even though you know I'm always right."

He chuckles, a slight sense of relief accompanying her response, when suddenly he remembers, perking up, "I have more good news."

Donna raises her eyebrows, "what is it?"

"When I found you, I was rushing back to tell you that I'd had word from Louis, Faye was removed as special master by the Bar, your suspension's been revoked." He smiles as he delivers the news, watching as her own lips curve in glee.

"And more than that, I've been in contact with your friend, from the theatre, I've worked it out, she's willing to either come up with a rehearsal schedule that allows you to balance work, or you can take a temporary leave to focus on acting, the choice is yours."

"Harvey, how did you…"

"I think you'll find I'm pretty well connected." He grins at her reaction, delighted to see it had the desired effect.

"Just promise me two things." He continues.

"What's that?"

"One, we are never, ever, getting one of those smart home systems."

"Agreed." She chuckles.

"And two, never let me get in the way of what's going to make you happy, because you know that's all I've ever wanted Donna." There's real sentiment behind his words, all times, pre-relationship they'd wished each other happiness flashing behind their eyes, an always weighted gestured.

"I promise, but you're what truly makes me happy, you know that, don't you?" she breathes.

"I know." And he does, more than he could ever put into words, a shared understanding between them, that as long as they had each other, they would be content.

**Xxx**

**Hey guys! It's been a while...**

**Hope you enjoyed the final installment of this fic, sorry it took so long, life got kinda crazy there for a while but with all the lock downs due to covid 19 I have plenty of free time and energy to put into writing again! So please drop some prompts, either on twitter or here, you know my style :) **

**It's good to be back x**


End file.
